I HOOTED with laughter throughout this, but particularly at your description of Big Milk.
You've also helped me decide that maybe I *don't* want a dog (already put off by the having to walk it and pick up its poo, but I always wondered if the unconditional love part would be nice. I now see how it could be CHALLENGING)
My childhood dog was a cocker spaniel and my only explanation for his temperament being that he was a reincarnation of a Mafia Don.
Since then I have been owned by a succession of cats, most recently Iggy who as a young kitten resembled a science experiment to cross a bat and a rat with a cat.
The only thing I love as much as animals is reading bout them so I hope for more Chips and Big Mill updates.
Oh wow, the adventures with Chips and Big Milk genuinely had me chuckling! Your description of a cockapoo as "teenage angst crossed with a heart attack" is not only vivid but also an absolutely brilliant piece of writing. It paints such a clear picture of the rollercoaster that comes with loving these furry little beings. Here's to the chaotic, love-filled, and endlessly entertaining life with pets. May your Valentine's Days always be as eventful and heartwarming as your menagerie à trois!
Explore captivating Contemporary, Romance, Thriller & Suspense, Science Fiction, Horror, and more stories on my Substack for FREE at https://jonahtown.substack.com
Poodles are the same… my parents’ poodle suffers from acute adoration of my dad (despite the fact or perhaps because he doesn’t walk her, feed her, brush her, give her tidbits or pick up her puke) and the rest of us as little more than dust mites in the breeze when he’s in the room! 😂
Sent this straight to my friend who has both a crazed cockapoo and a beloved cat. So funny. I have a depressed dachshund who doesn’t even bother to get off the sofa when I get home - not sure what’s worse!
I also had a Cockapoo called Chippy/Chips/The Chipster who I now realise was a band-aid for a struggling marriage and who unfortunately was gifted to our lovely dog-sitters when we separated. I cried more for Mister Chips than I ever did for the ex.
I HOOTED with laughter throughout this, but particularly at your description of Big Milk.
You've also helped me decide that maybe I *don't* want a dog (already put off by the having to walk it and pick up its poo, but I always wondered if the unconditional love part would be nice. I now see how it could be CHALLENGING)
xMarsh
Well this has stopped my doggy ovaries from clanging for a good while longer, thank you for your service.
My childhood dog was a cocker spaniel and my only explanation for his temperament being that he was a reincarnation of a Mafia Don.
Since then I have been owned by a succession of cats, most recently Iggy who as a young kitten resembled a science experiment to cross a bat and a rat with a cat.
The only thing I love as much as animals is reading bout them so I hope for more Chips and Big Mill updates.
Haha you’ve got cockerpoos down to a T
Oh wow, the adventures with Chips and Big Milk genuinely had me chuckling! Your description of a cockapoo as "teenage angst crossed with a heart attack" is not only vivid but also an absolutely brilliant piece of writing. It paints such a clear picture of the rollercoaster that comes with loving these furry little beings. Here's to the chaotic, love-filled, and endlessly entertaining life with pets. May your Valentine's Days always be as eventful and heartwarming as your menagerie à trois!
Explore captivating Contemporary, Romance, Thriller & Suspense, Science Fiction, Horror, and more stories on my Substack for FREE at https://jonahtown.substack.com
So relatable ... but it's my cat who's inches from me at all times. Love your writing.
oh this is just wonderful!!!!! slight edit: "A labradoodle is a nervous breakdown crossed with Groundhog Day."
You're going to need to link us to that poem please?
Superb animal naming skills. No notes.
Poodles are the same… my parents’ poodle suffers from acute adoration of my dad (despite the fact or perhaps because he doesn’t walk her, feed her, brush her, give her tidbits or pick up her puke) and the rest of us as little more than dust mites in the breeze when he’s in the room! 😂
Cockapoos and staffys have a lot in common it seems 😂
Sent this straight to my friend who has both a crazed cockapoo and a beloved cat. So funny. I have a depressed dachshund who doesn’t even bother to get off the sofa when I get home - not sure what’s worse!
I also had a Cockapoo called Chippy/Chips/The Chipster who I now realise was a band-aid for a struggling marriage and who unfortunately was gifted to our lovely dog-sitters when we separated. I cried more for Mister Chips than I ever did for the ex.
Oh Chips, Chips… Chill Out! (she squeaks, trapped under the weight of her own claustro beasts) Jx
Dazzling writing.
Brilliant.